#and my dog stole my breakfast sandwich this morning and I burst into tears so

[couthbbg]

listening to if we were vampires, thinking abt the core, and WEEPING

[fruitcoops]

Hi hello I would love to know more about this tidbit from your oher fic? “Three months after we moved in together, Remus slept on the couch for a week because he hated the way I left toothpaste on the sink.” “I wasn’t even angry about the toothpaste.” Remus got up to refill Leo’s water glass. “I was scared we were moving too fast and that everything would fall apart.” pretty please with puppy dog eyes?

Anything for you, Beyonce! Hope you enjoy your trip on the angst train >:)

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for couples arguments, self-isolation, mild anxiety

Day 1

“Oh my god, Sirius.” Remus shoved his toothbrush back in the holder more aggressively than he probably needed to. His hands were shaking, though whether it was from rage or something else, he wasn’t sure.

“What?”

“Really? Again?”

“What?” Sirius asked again. He had the nerve to sound truly bewildered and the bed creaked as he stood up. “What did I do?”

“You left the toothpaste uncapped and it’s all over the sink,” Remus sighed, running his hand down his face. It was too late to fight about this.

Sirius gave him a look. “Re, there’s literally one smudge.” He swiped it away with his thumb. “There. Better?”

“No, it’s not better. I told you I hate it when you do that.”

“Are you okay? You seem…upset.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he snapped. Sirius recoiled at his tone and he bit back a second retort. “Look, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“What—sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, okay?” Remus grabbed a fresh set of pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt out of the dresser. He couldn’t handle being surrounded by Sirius’ smell right now. “Just…not tonight.”

 Day Two

They ate breakfast silently. Every ping of Sirius’ spoon against his cereal bowl was like nails on a chalkboard as he choked down a slice of toast and all but chugged his coffee. “So…” Sirius started, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Not really,” Remus muttered. “I’m going to run to Target and get some groceries.”

“In your pajamas?”

Remus went upstairs without a word. He slept on the living room couch again that night and tried desperately not to miss Sirius’ solid warmth next to him. This is good for you both, he repeated again and again and again. Space is good. Space is healthy.

Day Three

Sirius didn’t bring it up again, but he stole quick, worried glances that Remus caught in his periphery whenever they were in the same room together. There was a gentle knock on the living room doorframe and he poked his head in, offering Remus a grilled cheese sandwich that basically broke his heart. “I’m really sorry about the toothpaste,” he said softly when Remus didn’t respond. “Um, I made dinner, but you seemed busy. So. Here.”

“Thanks,” Remus managed. As soon as he heard the bedroom door close upstairs, silent tears began streaking down his face. The sandwich tasted like sawdust. “You need to breathe,” he reminded himself. “If you move too fast it’s going to fall apart. If you can’t exist apart then you won’t be healthy together.”

And yet somehow he was unhappier than he had been in more than three months, even when they were still living in the same house.

 Day Four

Remus ran errands. Hung out with Lily in the park. Made lunch and left a brief note next to the crock pot for Sirius to find when he was done working out. Love you, it read. Simple. Normal. Healthy.

His back was beginning to cramp from the too-small couch. His feet were cold every night. Lily’s silent concern played over and over again in his head as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

 Day Five

It was getting easier to create distance with Sirius despite the fact that they shared most spaces. He offered quick smiles when they passed each other in the hallway, chaste kisses whenever he left the house, and even scooted over to make room for him on the couch when the Avatar reruns started on Nickelodeon.

“Remus, are you mad at me?” Sirius asked after a period of suffocating silence. Hearing him say his name was strange—his accent curled around it in an unfamiliar way, like he was making a conscious effort not to slip up. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. It was agonizing to be so close to him and yet so far away. They always cuddled on the couch.

“No,” Remus said in a small voice. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Is this…are you breaking up with me?” From the soft huff of air that came after it, Remus knew he had been sitting on this for a long time.

“What? No!” He turned, making eye contact for the first time in days. It was brutal and made him feel raw. “No, I love you.”

Sirius’ shoulders folded in slightly and he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “Are you coming back to bed soon?”

“I—I don’t know,” Remus forced himself to say. I love you! He wanted to scream. I love you so much it’s scaring me. I miss everything about you, even the toothpaste smudges on the sink and the way you look at me when you find more of my socks scattered around. I miss holding you and racing shopping carts in Target with you. I miss your laugh and your smile and just being near you. “Probably. I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

“Take your time.” The words sounded like they pained him. “Take all the time you need.”

“This isn’t payback,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is not payback for the time we spent hiding, okay?”

Sirius gave him an astonished look. “How did you…?”

“Because I know you.” He was miserable. So fucking miserable. “I know you, Sirius, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

One question hung unspoken between them. Then why are you staying away?

 Day Six

Sirius was gone when he woke up, but a sticky note in his careful handwriting rested on the end table near Remus’ face. He frowned as he sat up—he been too drained to deal with tangled blankets when he went to sleep, but sometime in the night they had been smoothed all the way up to his shoulder and a second one had been added to cover his feet. Remus shoved down the urge to burst into tears and grabbed the note to distract himself.

Remus, it began. Ouch.

Pots and I are taking Harry to the park today, I’ll be back around six. Lily said she wanted to talk with you at some point so keep an eye out for her calls. Thanks for picking up extra pasta at the store.

Love you,

Sirius

He smoothed his thumb over the note, feeling each bump and curl of Sirius’ pencil because his vision was too blurry to make out the words a second, third, fourth time. “This is bullshit,” he said to himself. “This is bullshit!”

When the slight echo of his shout faded out, he set it back on the table and curled up, drawing both blankets tight around himself. “Why am I doing this?”

1.      You had sex before you went on a real date

2.      You went through a traumatic event and are still working through it

3.      You’re so fucking scared of how much you love him

4.      You want to spend forever with him because he’s your best friend, too

5.      Normal couples date for at least a year before moving in together

6.      Normal couples—

“Fuck it.” He shook his head to clear the anxiety list from his brain. He had been reciting it to himself for days as some sort of convoluted justification. “Fuck it. I love him and this is bad for both of us. So what if we’re not a normal couple? What the hell is a normal couple? We’re never going to be normal and I love him, I love him, I…”

The low sobs that resonated in his chest burned in the best way. His breathing was even, but he just couldn’t repress this anymore. “I’m a coward,” he sniffled, sliding further under the heavy blankets. His pajamas only smelled like laundry detergent and regret. “And an idiot.”

The phone rang and he picked it up. “Hey, Lils.”

“Well, you sound like a wreck.”

“I know.”

“What’s going on, Re?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“And?”

“And I’m in love with him.”

“And?”

“I’m done self-flagellating to try and fit the societal standards of a healthy relationship based on heterosexuality.”

“There’s my Remus,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Are you okay? I was worried about you.”

“Better now. I’ll fix this when Sirius gets home.”

“Good. You’re both suffering from this.”

 Day Seven

When Remus woke up, it was pitch-black outside. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered to the ceiling, scrubbing at his itchy eyes. The wall clock read 12:06. After another thirty minutes of crying, he had cleaned the whole house top to bottom, went for a run, and then apparently passed out on the couch for five hours.

Fix this. In any other circumstance, Remus would have spent at least an hour fretting over every tiny detail. But this was Sirius. This was about owning the fact that he was happiest with Sirius and that he had unintentionally hurt him by trying to create distance that they didn’t actually need.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself up the stairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door. There was a moment of silence, then a sleepy voice. “Re?”

“Hey, baby. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius hadn’t bothered turning on the light, so the room was dark as he slipped in and closed the door behind him. Sudden nervousness washed through him. “I’m sorry.”

There was a rustle as Sirius sat up. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought—” His mouth was so dry. “It’s so stupid.”

“Please tell me.”

“I thought we needed space. I didn’t want space, you didn’t want space, but I was afraid we were moving too fast and that we’d suddenly wake up one morning and hate each other. That everything would crumble because we rushed into everything.”

“Hmmm.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“After day three, yeah. And then I was just worried. You seemed really unhappy and I didn’t know why.” Sirius paused. “Um, I called your mom.”

“What? When?”

“Friday morning. That was what, day…four? I heard you crying downstairs and I was afraid someone had died or something.” His voice wobbled. “She was worried, too, but she said you might just need to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

“I know.”

“Can I…?”

“C’mere.” Sirius reached over and lifted the edge of the covers up on Remus’ side—as far as he could tell, they had been left tucked in the whole time. “I love you,” he murmured as Remus curled up.

“I love you so much.” He carefully reached out and brushed their hands together, and Sirius wrapped an arm around him to pull him close. “So much, you have no idea. That was the worst week.”

Sirius’ heartbeat was steady as Remus kissed the top of his head and melted into his warmth. “I capped the toothpaste in the bathroom.”

When Remus laughed, it was a little teary. “I say this with all the love in the world, Sirius, but I couldn’t care less about the goddamn toothpaste. I care about you.”

His hold tightened and Remus squeezed his eyes shut. I know, it said. I’ve got you. I love you. You can stay.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Living Room Graduation

You’re due to graduate from college, but due to COVID, it was cancelled. Chris, your neighbor, and his brother try to give you a graduation anyway.

-

           You were gutted, to say the least, about your graduation being cancelled. Actually, your entire final semester was cancelled, your parents were stuck with your grandparents in Maine, and you had a huge old house to yourself and you couldn’t even have anyone quarantine with you. So you were at your worst, skipping Google Hangouts classes to re-watch the same TV shows you’d seen four times to binge all of the Lord of the Rings movies (you don’t even like them really, they’re just on Netflix), to sleep for fourteen hours a day, and only leave the house for curbside pickup or your weekly Starbucks run. You were completely and utterly done with life at that point.

           It was around seven when you realized the trash collector was supposed to come in half an hour, so you sprung out of bed, threw on some shorts, and tried to make it. You probably looked like a mess, and it only slightly comforted you when you saw your neighbor, Chris, walking his own trash out in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was a sweet guy. He was an actor, he was in some of your favorite movies, and he had the sweetest dog who would sometimes come to your front yard and roll around. His brother, Scott, had been quarantining with him. At least they weren’t alone.

           “You forgot too?” Chris asked across the driveway. You were probably six or seven feet apart.

           “Yeah, my parents usually do this,” you responded. “But they’re stuck in Maine, so I’m here.”

           “Oh, no! Hey, aren’t you supposed to be finishing college? Boston U, right? Is it pre something?”

           “Pre-law,” you responded. You put the trash can down and crossed your arms in the cold, still talking to him. “I’m deferring law school for a year to try and get an internship and pay some of my loans off. I guess you’re not working right now, either?”

           “Nope. I got a series coming out on Apple, but nothing’s filming right now, so Scott and I are just kind of sitting ducks,” he answered. “I gotta go take the dog out for a walk, but you should come over at some point as long as you don’t have coronavirus. We’re good company. And we’d be glad to have you.” You smiled.

           “Thank you,” you said with a smile on your face. “Yeah, it’s freezing, I’m going back inside to put some pants on.” He laughed as you turned and walked across the driveway, bare-footed, until you reached your front door and slipped inside.

           From that March evening, you were a regular at the Evans house. You came over for breakfast, lunch, even dinner sometimes. You and Scott would sit on the couch, Dodger between you, and watch TV for most of the day until you had to tune into class, when you’d run home. As it started warming up, you started using their pool. You missed your family, but Chris and Scott were quickly becoming some of your favorite people. Chris even networked you with one of his lawyers who was helping him with a political website he was coming out with, earning you a remote internship for the summer.

           May came and your spirits were low, despite the fact that you had Chris and Scott all but living with you. You hated the fact that you couldn’t even protest for your classes to be graded so your GPA remained at a 3.89 and wouldn’t round up. You hated that your parents still weren’t home because they were taking care of your grandparents still. You hated being in that big farmhouse, all alone, even though your friends were next door. You hated the fact that you couldn’t do any school traditions or even remotely celebrate your graduation. But you tried to keep yourself occupied, like watching all of the Marvel movies with Scott just to annoy the shit out of Chris.

           “Oh, come on! I don’t look that bad!” Chris defended as you were watching the first Captain America. He was making lunch for the three of you (because you and Scott only wanted to postmates in and Chris insisted on making food), so he was in the kitchen just behind where you and Scott were laughing and commenting.

           “Dude, no one looks good in polyester stars and stripes! Just admit it!” You said to him. He groaned and jokingly shoved you into the couch. “I’m sorry. You just make it so easy to make fun of you.”

           “I could say the same. You weren’t fooling anyone when you put that sweater on while you were tanning outside.” That was right – you had put a sweater on over your bikini the day before when you were at their pool, trying to cover up the fact that you were attending class and tanning at the same time.

           “Oh, that’s different!” You said, walking into the kitchen just to punch him in the side. You’d seen how he worked out and that was definitely the most vulnerable part of him.

           “Hey!”

           “Guys, no roughhousing!” Scott called, not even bothering to look behind you. Your phone chimed, signaling that you had class in ten minutes, and you sighed.

           “Go on and use the office,” Chris said to you, “and I’ll have lunch after.”

           “Thank you,” you replied, grabbing your laptop and running up the stairs to Chris’s office area. He always kept it the cleanest room in the house, but it was filled with pictures of him and his co-stars, pictures of him and his family. Your favorite was a framed picture of Dodger right in front of his computer.

           You logged into class and the Google Hangouts noise started playing loudly. Chris looked up at the ceiling before walking over to Scott, knowing that you were getting ready for class and wouldn’t be back down. He sat down next to his brother and pet the dog who was always at his side.

           “Okay, since her graduation got cancelled, I wanna do something,” Chris said to Scott. “She deserves it. And her parents aren’t even here to see her graduate.”

           “Well, what do you want to do?��� Chris sighed, taking his phone from his pocket, and looked up your college’s website. Then he saw the COVID information page, which had plans for graduation on it.

           “It looks like they’re doing a virtual graduation with all of their names and pictures and everything. So maybe we could screen it here, give her a nice brunch and some alcohol, make her feel not so anti-climactic,” he suggested, handing Scott the phone. The graduation was going to be on YouTube, so it was easy to pull up on the TV. And they could lure you over under the guise of something else and surprise you with it.

           “Alright, then, how do you wanna do this? We have to make some excuse to keep her out until that time.”

           “Just… You go with her on a Starbucks run or something after class today. Find a way to make sure it’s the one across town. That’ll give me enough of a chance to make some food and put some stuff up and go over to her house and steal her cap and gown.”

           “Christopher, you are a mastermind,” Scott said. “Remind me never to piss you off while we’re in quarantine. You have time, money, and motive.” Chris chuckled and went back to making lunch, bringing the meat out to the grill while you were still in class.

           Over the next few days, you didn’t suspect anything. You went along with everything, as usual, and Chris was even alone with you as you walked Dodger. He managed to keep it a secret, even though he wanted to burst and tell you that you shouldn’t be sad on your graduation. The week leading up to it, he forced you to use the office space almost every day. He gave you food and coffee, he made you take breaks for your sanity, and he made you get nine hours of sleep every night. Finally, the day before graduation, you burst into the door.

           “Guys!” You said loudly, holding a printed piece of paper. “I contested to get my classes graded instead of pass fail and they did it! I have a 3.9 now!”

           “That’s amazing!” Chris said, walking over to give you a hug.

           “What? That’s awesome!” Scott got up off the couch and hugged you too. Even Dodger looked excited.

           “So now I can actually say I have a 3.9.”

           “Let me see it!” Chris took the paper from your hands, looking at all of your grades. Despite all of the meltdowns and classes you skipped, you managed an A in every single one of them. “I’m so proud of you!” He said, hugging you again.

           “I’m going to go call my parents,” you said.

           “Oh, by the way,” Chris said, grabbing you before you could make it out the door. “Come over tomorrow at 8:30. No questions asked, alright? And wear something cute?” You gave him a look before turning around and leaving.

           “Dude, you basically spoiled it!” Scott said, elbowing his brother.

           “What happened to no roughhousing?” Chris asked. He ran away before Scott could do anything. He had some work to do, if only for you.

           The next morning you showed up at their door at exactly 8:30, carrying a six pack and hoping that whatever they had planned would allow you to get drunk. You’d finally passed out after watching Baccalaureate and the awards ceremonies all by yourself. Your best friend was the valedictorian, too, and you called her to cry about it. But you were up bright and earlier than usual when Scott opened the door and shuffled you in. Red and white was everywhere – they’d pulled out some Christmas decorations that were red garlands, Chris had literally put glitter confetti all over a table, and there was a cookie cake on the table with your name on it.

           You teared up as soon as you saw the cookie cake. You could smell breakfast, too. He’d made you an entire meal, bigger than the usual kind. Both of the boys were wearing red, too, and you beamed. They’d planned you an entire graduation party in their living room because you couldn’t go to yours.

           “What?” You asked. They both just laughed and embraced you in an Evans sandwich.

           “I stole your cap and gown too,” Chris said, “you should really lock your doors when you’re over here for class.” You laughed.

           “Thank you, so much, guys.”

           “It’s the least we can do. We’re proud of you. Come on and get some food and alcohol and we can cry through the ceremony together.” You laughed again and started making the rounds in the kitchen, grabbing a little bit of everything except for some extra bacon, and you let Chris pour you a massive glass full of alcohol for yourself. He brought out your gap and gown and your cords and stoles and made you put them on. The ceremony started at 9, so you weren’t too pressed for time. But you sat down between the two of them, Dodger right on top of you, and watched as your name eventually came on screen. Both boys cheered and nudged you, clinking all of your glasses together.

           “I’m so proud of you,” Chris said, “really.” You leaned into his shoulder and then Scott’s, just grateful that you had them.

           “I’m really glad we took the trash out at the same time,” you said with a sniffle.

           “Oh, don’t cry! Come on, we have alcohol!” Scott said. That just made you laugh.

           “Come on, kid,” Chris said as he messed up your hair. “Let’s get some cake.”

A/N: I’m sorry this is so short but I hope you like it! Congrats to anyone in the Class of 2020!